


Drunken Morose

by HomeMovies



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Amputation, Blackouts, Blindness, Death Threats, Humiliation, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rape, Sibling Incest, Threats of Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomeMovies/pseuds/HomeMovies
Summary: Undyne stopped sobbing. She grew quiet before faintly mumbling, “You don't remember..last Wednesday?”As I was going through the process of editing a few chapters of 'Lugubriosity', I stumbled upon this story I wrote about a year ago. It was the original beginning and story concept of 'Lugubriosity' so there are a few things similar with the beginning of both stories. I have no idea why I decided to drop this one and go for the story we have now, but it could have something to do with the darker themes.





	Drunken Morose

**Author's Note:**

> As just common courtesy I decided to mark areas where you can skip, if you wanted of course, with "(**)". It will pop up at the beginning and end of a disturbing scene, which in this case is a rape scene. Also I have it at the beginning if you wanted to skip that too since it is very similar to the other story lol. 
> 
> Also I'm gonna be adding my useless notes throughout, so that is what the bolded text is. You don't have to read those if you don't want to since it doesn't affect the story in any way.
> 
> Anyways enjoy :D

 

**(**)**

 

**_(This whole scene is nearly a direct replica of the beginning of ‘Lugubriosity’. It also doesn't seem to fit the tone of the rest of the story, so feel free to skip it.)_ **

 

The rhythmic sound of the old clock ticking steadily was enough to put even the most focused of minds in a trance. The hum of the ceiling fan and refrigerator combined stood to be hypnotic. The kitchen was dimly lit; every light was off except for that emitting from the stove vent. The empty murmuring from the television could be heard from a distance, as could the infrequent drops of water from the sink in the upstairs bathroom.

 

From all of the white noise observed and stated, not one of them resembled the clink of a beer bottle. Not one of them matched that of obnoxious drunken laughter. Nor was the faint sound of weeping even barely heard. All of which were more than just common characteristics of their home's atmosphere in its current state.

 

Something was off. It was too quiet, but Papyrus couldn't bring himself to care.

 

He toyed with the steaming pot of spaghetti in front of him. Papyrus hadn't even bothered to turn on any of the lights when he walked in from work. Not in the kitchen, the dining room or hallway. He couldn't be bothered to see the house in its horrible conditions since he was guaranteed Sans didn't do shit all day. His brother was lazy, okay so that's a well known trait about him, but in what universe would it be even remotely fair to have one person do all the work while the other does nothing. The more Papyrus thought about it, the more a rage burned in his soul. He could feel himself breathing heavy as he tightly clenched the stirring spoon in his hand. 

 

It wasn't enough for Sans to spend most of his day napping like a domestic house cat, he just needed to get hooked on booze and become a bigger bum with his ass planted to the couch cushions. How thoughtful and convenient of a decision it was for him to make. 

 

Angrily pulling a bowl out of the dark cabinets and slamming it on the counter, Papyrus nearly screamed. There was loud clapping coming from whatever TV program his brother was watching. Every second the tall skeleton stood there listening to the repugnant cheering inched him closer to snapping. Trying not to focus on the noise, Papyrus began to scoop large spoonfuls of spaghetti into the bowl. He would dig in the soup of tomato sauce and meat chunks, attempting to get the most in as little dips as possible. Nearly filling his brother's bowl up to the top, his fingers slipped as the scolding hot spaghetti spilt down his arm, top, and all over the tile floor. It was a complete mess. A mess on top of more mess. How disgusting his environment was; this kitchen. Dishes were piled so high they nearly toppled over, their cheesy wallpaper was peeling with grime coating the panel underneath, and the freezer was leaking a puddle of water all over the floor, mixing in with the spaghetti. These were only a few of the horrors found in this room alone.

 

Oh how his ulna began to burn it nearly blazed a glowing red. This wouldn't be the first time Papyrus overcooked his food, but god how it hurt. He dashed over to the cluttered sink, quickly turning on the tap and forcing his arm under the running water. It helped get him clean but not ease the burn since he hadn't noticed the water was hot. Cursing perfusively, Papyrus torn his shirt off in an attempt to somewhat bandage his aching bone. Oddly enough, the skeleton started to feel resentment. If he didn't make his brother's stupid food he wouldn't be in so much agony. 

 

That was it. 

 

Feeling the pain quickly raise to his head, Papyrus bashed the cabinet with his fist. He did it again and again. He bashed and he bashed and he bashed until the wood caved in and a massive hole stood in its place. His anger didn't die down, though. The opposite was true as he found himself throwing dinner plates at the wall, only receiving a miniscule amount of satisfaction as they shattered on impact. He was practically envisioning his brother’s smug face. It was strangely so punchable at that moment.

 

* _ crash* _

 

_ *crash* _

 

_ *crash* _

 

One by one as the glass flew everywhere his rage continued to sizzle. He wanted nothing more then to make this pain go away but at the same time he wanted to inflict it so badly. Someone had to pay for his emotions, someone needed to be punished for leaving such a god awful mess. 

 

Papyrus just couldn't take it. He couldn't handle all the stress. The stress that wasn't just coming from his useless brother, but everything else in his life. Life was so different now. Still so meaningless, but different nonetheless. He proved himself “worthy” and now most monsters looked up to him, they feared him. He wasn't just the big bumbling idiot everyone was so comfortable around. So comfortable with looking down at. He wasn't an immature child and the only way he knew how to prove it was violence. Violence was wonderful since his size already gave him an unfair advantage. All he needed to do was funnel all that fear and insecurities he's always had, into his fists, and the blows would do the speaking. It turns out his knuckles were quite the smooth talker. To say he wasn't power hungry would be a flat out lie, but he also wasn't expecting everything that came with his newfound power. If only he had people that weren't so incompetent around him. If only he didn't have to do everything himself. If only Sans wasn't so lazy.

 

As the crowd on the television applauded , Papyrus preceded to kick apart their dining room furniture. As he snapped the wood he fantasized about snapping his brother's neck just the same. Hearing the cracking echo in his unpresent ear  lobe was almost like listening to a heavenly lullaby. Soothing but unsettling. Papyrus would be damned before he'd ever wish death upon his brother, especially by his own hands. It wasn't that he wanted Sans dead, he simply just wanted him inches from it. He wanted, no needed, him to pay for all of this. For the dumb mess. For his dumb stress.  Swearing as he punched through a very expensive decorative piece, he almost slipped on a few noodles. Papyrus knew he would regret his actions once he calmed down, and this angered him more. Not only did Sans refuse to clean the house, now it was in shambles. How could his brother be so lazy.

 

He was so lazy.

  
  


He was so fucking lazy!

 

**_(I begin to drastically branch off from this point forward, but you can still see many similar elements throughout. I'm still so curious why I decided not to stick with this story.)_ **

**(**)**

 

_____

 

Sans layed buried in the couch, the remote in one hand and a bottle of ketchup in the next. He spent the last 30 minutes just flipping through channels, but as always, nothing good was on. Staring at the screen blankly, he was all but at the verge of tears.

 

How many times had he played every single moment of his life over and over again in his head. He was desperate to find where he went wrong. What he did, said, to make such a horrible monster. A monster in every meaning of the word. A monster that transcended what they merely classified themselves as. One that was more frightening than the stereotypes in children’ stories. One willing to chew you up and spit you out like you were stick of bubblegum. And to think it was all his doing.

 

The skeleton reached for the bottle of vodka on the messy coffee table in which he placed his feet. Getting up and simply moving his limbs felt like a headache. He was more than in a miserable drunken condition, but his ketchup was calling out to be deluded more with alcohol. He nearly fell to the floor but caught himself just in time to grab hold of the neck of the glass. Undoing the cap, he watched in a pitiful glee as the clear liquor mixed with the sauce. Shaking it up good before taking a huge chug at his concoction, he collapsed back into the cushions.  

 

He watched as his sight began to blur. This was perfect. Very perfect. This way he wouldn't have to face reality, or the pounding voices in his head that kept  _ screaming, and screaming, and screaming _ . He knew it was all his fault, that he was responsible for what became of his brother, but he didn't have to be reminded of it. Not now at least. He just needed a break. 

 

Soon it would be lights out.

 

His mind was racing, it was always racing, and only his good ol’ buddies, ketchup and Vodka, could slow it down. He loved how he could rely on them 24/7. It didn't matter if it was winter or spring, if he called, they answered. And when they answered, everything became alright.

 

It might've been seconds, minutes, or even hours Sans sat on that dirty couch. He couldn't tell either way. Time moved in the speed of light, yet felt like eternity. It was horrible. He felt horrible. He was empty. He didn't move an inch. He didn't blink. He just sat there, listening to the static of the television. This was better than facing whatever else was out there, out of his foggy mind, and in the thrashing sea of reality. 

 

It was easier to focus on the television and slip into a fantasy. One that had no relation to any of his real life. One were he actually did something right for once, and could be proud of who he was. But that is why it was fantasy. All of it were just fragments of the imagination, destined to never come true.

 

“Get your ass up!” 

 

His brother stood towering over him with a look of anger on his face. Sans didn't hear him come in, but then again he didn't even notice he was standing right in front of him until he said something. 

 

What did he want now? To torment him more? To rub it in his face what he's done? To remind him of his crying? Those awful sobs. That awful sound. He needed his bottle. He needed another drink.

 

“Didn't you hear me? Why is this house a mess?” Papyrus lowered his head to look his older brother in the eyes. This had little to no effect in Sans, since his sockets were two black holes. Plus, by the way his head was leaning on the armrest, Sans could've been glaring at the floor and ceiling at the same time.

 

Sans didn't respond. Papyrus was going to question him again when realized just how useless that would be. Sans was barely coherent at this state. He would never get a proper answer from him.

 

The slender skeleton squat down and attempted to lift the sorry pile of bones up into the air. “Dhon’t touch meh, ya filthy bastard,” Sans smacked away Papyrus’ hands as he tried to sit himself up. He wobbled to get on his rear. Nearly falling over again as he sipped his drink. His younger brother just staired. He watched as the disgusting liquid sloppily poured everywhere but its intended location. He gazed as Sans took the sleeve of his hoodie to try to clean himself up. The blue fabric quickly becoming a sour clumpy red. 

 

His younger brother's anger soften, as he realized just how bad Sans must have it. He had to be really depressed to compromise his image to such a degrading degree. Papyrus could never bring himself to such a low level. But even though Sans looked ridiculous, he was still his brother. 

 

“Did I do something to make you so upset?” Papyrus asked. Sans didn't respond and instead seemed to be occupied in trying to dry himself. He waited for a moment, trying to read his brother's expression. His face was the usual. Droopy eyes with a few cracks on his skull. The only thing missing was his smug smile.  Papyrus got up. There was no need for him to dealing with this. If Sans didn't want his help then so be it. He had better things to do anyways. 

 

“I'll be in my room-” 

 

“Dhon't ya dhare! I swear ta God if ah have teh hear it again imma fuckin’ kill ya!” Sans slurred as he dropped his glass bottle on the carpet. It shattered but he cared little. He wasn't going to be reminded again, not when he put all this effort in forgetting.  

 

“No you won't. You can't even get off the couch,” Papyrus smiled then began to walk towards the stairs. He knew Sans knew. It was obviously why he drank so much, but that was just too bad. It wasn't Papyrus’ fault that his brother couldn't handle him being happy. He didn't care if Sans wanted him to stop, or quiet down, or do the “right” thing, or whatever other shit he preached at him. Papyrus was a changed man. He wasn't something to mess with anymore, and damn the power felt so good. So he was going to have his fun and Sans was going to have to deal with it.

 

“Your dinner is on the table, you should hurry up before it gets cold.” With that he was gone, climbing up the creaky steps, and fading into the void of a hallway. Sans could hear his door shut before the voices in his head started up again. The crying. The screaming. It was all too loud and far too cruel for his weak being to handle.

 

Sans couldn't hold it in any longer, his eyes quickly became flooded with tears. What did he do to deserve this? He kept questioning himself. Questioning everything he knew. He wasn't a good role model. He was never a good role model, but he tried. He tried with every little thing he had.  That wasn't good enough obviously. Maybe if he was a little smarter or less lazy, determined, whatever. Maybe if he wasn't so selfish he wouldn't be alone. His brother wouldn't have blood on his hands.

 

The screaming started  _ again and again and again  _ like a broken record. It was thrashing at his skull. Pleading with him to do something. The more it went on the louder it got. Like on a loop, the screeching repeated itself over and over without fail. Without a break. Until it got silent, and the only sound audible were those dreadful moans.

  
  


____

  
  


The winter winds blew furiously against his cheeks. Sans dragged slowly along the snowy path. The morning light did little to brighten the way as a heavy fort of clouds scattered across the sky. It felt icy, so cold that Sans could swear he felt icicles forming in his orbital cavities. At least the weather kept him alert and awake.

 

Like every night, he cried himself to sleep. Always feeling the aftermath of his previous drinking in the morning. Oh how his head hurt. How his body ached. The only thing he wanted at that moment was to curl up in his bed and try to sleep the hangover off. That wasn't possible, though. He missed way too many days of work. Besides, Papyrus would be doing his rounds today, and he couldn't guarantee he would be let off the hook, if caught, this time. 

 

His job didn't require much anyways. All he had to do was sit there and wait. Wait for what? Like hell he knew. It wasn't like any humans happened to stroll around the neighborhood these days. But hey, he wasn't complaining. It just gave him another location to secretly drink.

 

So far on his schedule he had his early morning whiskey, then a few shots at lunch and to top the day off, a nice long trip to Grillby's. If all went according to plan, today would be a pretty good day. Mainly because he would only remember three fourths of it, if that.

 

“H-hey, nice day we're having huh?” Sans slowly turned his head to look behind him. A friendly smile was accompanied by a six foot fish with a sporadic wave. 

 

He didn't say anything at first, he honestly didn't know what to say. He hated looking at her. Sans was getting so uncomfortable that he just wanted to teleport away. He just didn't want to face this, not now, not ever. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't just leave. It was rude and Sans was working on his manners. Besides, it wasn't like Undyne could help her appearance. 

Sans sighed. “How did you know it was me?” He asked. Sans was truly curious. How did she manage to get around with such ease? Undyne was nearly wrapped from head to toe with bandages. Half resembling an ancient Egyptian mummy more than anything else. Or maybe wrapped salmon being ready to grill was a more fitting comparison. 

 

_ heh..that was so not funny _ . 

 

How could he make fun of the blind? He could get really slimy and low with his jokes but he needed to remind himself never to actually say them out in the open. Especially not in front of Undyne. She was still so sensitive about her loss of sight, well and her job, and everything else in her life. 

 

It was hard to forget the day Papyrus actually decided to across the line and fuck more people over than Sans could count. 

 

Why did he always feel so responsible? It wasn't like Sans could physically stop him. No one could. When it happened no one seen it coming. It was so out of the blue. No one expected it. It caught everyone off guard. Everyone except Sans.  

 

Maybe there was a chance he could've stopped him. Maybe he could've convinced his brother to reconsider, or he could've restrained him with a bit of brutal “force”. Sans saw the signs long before anyone else had, and yet he chose to ignore them. It could've been because of his selfishness, or the simple fact that Sans couldn't guarantee he could actually beat Papyrus in a fair fight. Luckily he never had to find out.

 

“It ain't that hard considering you smell and sound like a total wino,” Undyne nervously rubbed her left arm as her faded pupils fell towards the ground. Her smile was still spread across her face but there was a slight twitch at the corners of her lips. 

 

Fair enough. He figured one of her senses would be heightened to adapt to her new condition. Sans stuffed his hands in his pockets.  “Really? What does a wino sound like?” Undyne snickered. Sans didn't see what was so funny, yet he still found himself grinning as her face lit up. “Well you know. All heavy like,”

 

“Well that's strange. I literally weigh no more than a pile of bones.” Sans stood next to her. Undyne gently bumped her shoulder against his. “Odd. I remember you being quite chubby,” She messed with a piece of loose dressing. Steadily twirling the torn fabric around her middle finger. Why was she so happy, or if not happy, why so willing to joke with him? It wasn't like she was all that open to playing around before.  “I'm not that fat. I just like wearing baggy clothes. Makes me more intimidating-”

 

“Ha! Good idea considering you're such a shorty,” She crackled more, ruffled his hood, before nearly stumbling over a rock. Holding her arms out in front of her, she felt around to make sure nothing else was in her way. “Ah sorry about that. We're getting closer to more dense forest, if you want you can hold onto me until we get through,” Sans turned to her as he waited for a reply. She stopped. The smile on her face quickly weakening. “Uh.. that would be..” Undyne lowered her head. She held her hand towards his body heat. Sans took it and she softly grasped his bony palms. 

“..nice. Thank you,” 

 

Sans faintly tightened his hold on her left hand. Oddly, he was so focused on not hurting her. Undyne of all monsters. Undyne. Someone he was once so afraid of. He used to hate feeling her hard grip, but now her hands were as soft as fresh linen. This could be due to her bandages, but he somewhat doubted it.

 

Sans lead her towards a clearing through the woods. She didn't say much, with no surprise. He knew Undyne was once ago very prideful. She had a right to be considering how strong she was. He could now only imagine how embarrassing this must’ve been to have to rely on him.

 

_ Sans, the lazy bones, was now guiding the blind and feeding the hungry _ . Okay so he wasn't actually feeding any hungry homeless people, but he still felt like a saint. He needed to do more good deeds more often. Maybe that will help to alleviate his heavy guilt.

 

They both dragged their feet through the snow. Undyne was much slower than Sans was willing to put up with, but he knew he couldn't just leave her. He bit the ecto-tongue settled in his jaws to prevent himself from saying something stupid. 

 

Sans was working on his manners after all.

 

Besides this allowed him to stall a bit. The longer it took him to lead Undyne, the shorter he had to be sitting at that freezing post. Maybe this was a win-win situation. Was life actually giving him a break for once?

 

“Well we should almost be there-”

“Wait.” Undyne let go of his hand. She stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before she blurted out,

“I'm sorry about what you have to go through. I-if I had to endure what you had to…look, I guess I'm trying to say that I want to make it up to you,” She began to breathe heavily. The fish monster was really thinking over words. Sans could tell she was probably recruiting what she wanted to say before she said it, but was a little unsure.  Undyne dragged her palms down her cheeks then nervously ran a shaking hand through her crimson hair. Sans stood a bit confused. Where was she going with this? He placed his hands in his pockets again, trying to feel around for that flisk he usually stored in his back pocket. It wasn't there. Of course it wasn't. 

 

“It's fine if you're talking about me walking you through here. You don't have to pay me back for this,” Sans finally said after a bit of a pause. He really didn't want her to feel like he was some selfish asshole who had a problem with helping people. He didn't, even though he was complaining a bit, but that was solely in his head. So technically he wasn't complaining.

 

“Not that. I'm willing to let you..” Undyne crossed her arms around her chest. She stood there hugging herself before neurotically exhaling.

 

The fish slowly preceded to lift up her wife beater, exposing her bruised breast. Her nipples were a deep blue that slightly jiggled everytime she took in an uneasy breath of air. Sans never noticed just how big they were. Big and impressive, though a little ruined with all those fresh scars. Damn, if only he brought that flisk with him.

 

“...do whatever you want with me. I don't care anymore,” Undyne spat out.

 

Sans watched as she nervously pulled her top off and balled it up in her palms. “I don't get what you mean.” He said coldly. Sans wasn't really in the mood for sex, well he never really was. Papyrus completely ruined that for him.

 

“Put your shirt back on. It's not that much of a walk more,” Undyne didn't move.

“What I'm saying is that I understand how it feels to be a male and to be taken advantage of by your younger brother,  s-so I’m offering to let you rape me to restore your manhood-” 

 

Sans almost couldn't contain his laughter, not because anything was particularly funny, but he just couldn't believe she actually said that. She said it out loud for the whole world to hear, and yeah, the really hilarious thing about it was that he didn't know if it was true or not. He never had sex with Papyrus. That was so ludicrous. Papyrus would never do that to him, right? Paps would never, but why would she say that? Why would she ever say that? 

 

_ Why would she say that?  _

 

“Look, obviously you're not in the right frame of mind, just put your clothes back on before someone sees us,” Sans would've remembered if something did happen. He would have to remember. His body wouldn't betray him like that. He would know, he would've felt it. But now it was starting again, his racing mind. Sans was shooting through every last moment he could possibly remember from six months ago until now. But that didn't seem to disprove a thing.

 

God, he had so much blackouts.

 

Undyne fell to the ground and broke out into tears.  Sobbing loudly as she buried her face in her palms. “I'm worthless. I'm so worthless.” She cried. “Make me good for something! Please! Please just rape me!” She began to crawl towards his direction. Not knowing his exact location, she pitifully attempted feeling around for him. She looked so tragic. Like an actual cripple that stumbled over and couldn't get up again. In this state it was hard to believe she was once a great warrior. 

 

“Fine..i-if you won't ...if you won't, then just kill me! I have nothing. Nothing! Just kill me already!” 

 

Sans stood there almost panicking. He couldn't remember a thing, and her little “scene” wasn't helping. He had his own problems to deal with. He needed answers. He did need answers, right? Was it just better not to know.

 

“W-why do you think Paps-” he couldn't even get the rest of it out. Maybe ignorance was bliss and he should just drop it. Forget about it. It never Happened.

 

Undyne stopped sobbing. She grew quiet before faintly mumbling, “You don't remember..last Wednesday?” 

 

“Wednesday?” Sans voice cracked as the word harshly left his lips. He seemed so unsure, like he couldn't guarantee anything was actually happening at the moment. This could all be some weird hallucination. It wouldn't be the first time he was suddenly experiencing one of those out of the blue. His mind was jacked up after all and did weird shit without his consent.

 

“Sans I'm so sorry..I shouldn't have said anything,” 

 

“What happened on Wednesday?” He softly asked. Undyne didn't respond to him as she turned her head away, but suddenly grew very uneasy. Sans was going to ask her again only to be interrupted.

 

“Sans? There you are,” His brother's shadow towered over him, casting a blanket of darkness that could oddly be felt. He could feel it like smoke clogging up the lungs. It was thick and suffocating, and it stung every time it inched closer. It felt like fire slowly melting his bones into a liquid puddle. Like he was thrown in the pit of a volcano, being rapidly burnt alive, drowning in a sea of this boiling darkness.

 

Sans was about to throw up. The thought of being touched, assaulted, by his own brother made him sick. Obviously it couldn't be true. That would never happened. Papyrus would never. 

 

He struggled to swallow the clumpy contents back down his stomach. The last thing he needed was Papyrus to know something was wrong. The last thing he needed was to  make a mess of himself. But why did he care if he did know. Why did he ever care so much? What was even the point. 

 

Sans couldn't contain what spewed out of his mouth. It came out so quickly that he wasn't even sure it was his voice that said it. He wasn't sure if it was just a thought or loud echo escaping his head. He didn't feel his jaw move, he didn't feel his throat vibrate as he somehow spoke those haunting words. What came out of him was worse than throw-up, and unlike throw-up he couldn't gulp it back down his esophagus. The words were out in the air and they were very much audible. Everyone heard them. 

 

Papyrus heard them.

 

“What happened last Wednesday?” The approaching footsteps instantly stopped as Sans kept his back towards them. It went silent. So silent that if Sans closed his eyes he could easily convince himself he was alone. Maybe he was alone. Maybe his brother was never real to begin with. Just a figment of his imagination created to torture him for what he's done. 

 

Sans wasn't a good person. He was selfish, and lazy, and he could admit that he had a temper. Of course not the worse temper ever, but he still festered anger, and he could sometimes be the biggest asshole roaming the Underground. And he was also neglectful, and such a coward. Always running away from his problems. Never facing what he's done 

 

_ Always teleporting away.  _

 

So this might very well be hell. Sans probably died a few months back, and now he was being punished for all eternity. It serves him right. He screwed up.

 

“Nothing, Sans. It was a normal Wednesday, nothing too exciting happened. I think I made a pretty good bowl of spaghetti-” The voice grumbled behind him, snapping him back to the reality he now faced. The heat radiating off of this figure a few feet away, let Sans know everything he was experiencing wasn't just a mirage. He couldn't just escape it or push it back into the catacombs of muggy brain.

 

“Ahh okay. That's good. That's great...well I was scared that you..that we..” Sans turned around with a weak grin on his face. He didn't know why he wanted to see this creature, this thing that wore the mask of his brother. It didn't do him any good, yet his head was turning on his own just as his smile formed itself. Sans chuckled as he ran a bony hand along the surface of his skull. Nothing was funny about this, but his body couldn't help it. He was used to laughing off the pain.

 

“Had sex?” Papyrus slightly tilted his head to the side while he read Sans changing expression. The skeleton's grin fell as the eye lights in his dark sockets rapidly shrunk to pin pricks.  Papyrus sighed. “Yeah actually that did totally happen last week.” He placed a sharp finger to his chin. Mocking him with his eyes. This thing was sinisterly laughing, laughing at him, without even making a sound. Sans was pathetic. So pathetic he couldn't even remember his own abuse. How many times has this happened? Did everyone know?was he really walking around ignorant this whole time? It would explain the stares and whispers. That constant feeling of being watched and judge, but judged for something he had no say in? He couldn't even remember.

 

_ He didn't remember. _

  
  
  


“Hey, in fact, I think Undyne was there too. You remember what happened last week Undyne? I bet you do, huh? Just couldn't get enough of me and Sans so you needed more-”

 

A rush of anger came over the smaller skeleton. Before he could even reconsidered and weigh out the consequences, Sans balled his fist and swung at his brother. He managed to hit him hard against the back of the neck. Papyrus stumbled forward. Dizzy from the impact, he fell to his knees in the freezing snow. There was a moment of sweet relief and great victory for Sans, but that moment was short lived. 

 

Sans was expecting his brother to shout or whine at him, he expected Papyrus to quickly turn around and chase him through Snowdin with a fist in the air, he expected something dumb and childish. Something that his brother usually did in such a situation. He wanted Papyrus to moan about it and throw a tantrum like a three year old. He wanted him to pout and tell Sans “it wasn't fair” he ambushed him like that. He wanted them to just laugh this off because Papyrus deserved it. He frankly deserved so much more. But Sans was oddly growing scared, so very scared. 

 

Papyrus didn't quickly spring up like a jack-in-a-box, instead he got to his feet so gradually it was drastically eery. The low cracking of his bones seemed to echo throughout the forest as he was slouched forward like a hungry wendigo. He didn't say a word. Nothing left the jaws of this “thing”, but it still felt like it was screaming directly into his ears. It was silently deafening, but Sans didn't dare speak. He didn't attempt to apologize. He didn't try to help Papyrus up, or run for his life or anything.  Sans just stood there, subconsciously counting every second it took the slender skeleton to stretch back to his full height, and when he got there it was like he grew by an extra foot. Was Paps always so tall. So lanky. So threatening. Sans wished nothing more than to just disappear, buried deep in the snow beneath his feet. He fell completely paralysed when this creature shifted to face him. 

 

Sans almost choked on his saliva when he saw the unnatural smile plastered across his brother's lengthy skull. 

 

“Undyne wants a show,” Papyrus finally said with a voice so deep it made Sans question his very own existence. It made him question if Papyrus always sounded so menacing. Was Sans just invisoning him as this whiny crybaby. Perhaps it was brain’s attempt to make him less intimidating. 

 

“let's give her one.” 

 

Sans instinctively took a few steps back. He prepared to quickly teleport away when suddenly Papyrus hurdled towards him. His brother's long legs made it easy for him to close the short distance between them. Before Sans could even blink, his skull hit the ground hard. His eye sight fogged as sharp tight fingers coiled around his neck, slowly squeezing the life out of him. Sans clawed at fingers constricting around his cervical vertebrae. Papyrus’ grip harshly strained against Sans bone. He could feel the life quickly slipping out of him like a shattered hourglass. If Papyrus kept this up any longer he was going to die. He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not by the hands of his younger brother. Tears began to stain his cheeks as he could feel himself blacking out. Was this it? Was this really Sans’ end? What a fittingly miserable way to go. 

 

Just as Sans had given up, the hold on his neck was lifted. The small skeleton was left gasping for air as he cradled the sensitive bone. He couldn't believe that just happened. Papyrus actually attacked him and Sans couldn't do a thing about. The scary thing was, no magic was even involved. There was no way Sans could even imagine beating Papyrus in a fair fight. 

 

_ What a tragic loser. _

 

The cold surprising felt so good on his bones. His hoodie was totally soaked in sweat but Sans didn't mind. He just didn't want to be there. He hated feeling defenseless. He hated that burning sensation. The skeleton shut his eyes as he tried his hardest to steady his breathing. If he wasn't careful, he could end up choking on his own frantic inhales. 

 

_ Today was so far pretty horrible and they hadn't even made it to noon time _ . 

 

“I don't think Undyne can hear you all the way over there,”  Papyrus’ voice rumbled throughout Sans’ tiny structure. That “thing” was so close yet so far away. It was secluding him into this invisible box that couldn't physically harm him, that couldn't possibly restrain him, but it was. It was building walls on every side of his body, and giving him so little room to breathe.

 

Shaking and covered in sweat, Sans slowly got up and hesitantly opened his eyes. The creature had Undyne resting against a tree. He patted her head, ran his fingers through her hair, and watched as she slowly dressed herself. He let out a few words of encouragement when she accomplished the very daunting task of putting a shirt on. If Sans wasn't in so much pain he would've rolled his eyes. 

 

“C'mon Sans,” It kept that same creepy smile on its face, standing from its once squatted position to fully face its older brother. Lanky limbs hanging from its sides, sharp fingers dangling steadily, cape blowing through the icy winds. It watched Sans, studied him, and kept that damned smile on its face. 

 

He didn't know what came over him, but Sans couldn't do it. He couldn't take not so much as a step towards Papyrus. He was scared. No, beyond scared. Sans was experiencing an emotion he's never felt before. But the box around him was getting ever so smaller the longer he stood there. 

 

“Come here now.” The command hit him like a blast of heavy heat.  Sans couldn't do it. He couldn't let whatever was going to happen to him, happen. 

 

But his body refused to listen to him. Almost as if Sans was a remote control robot incapable of motion without a handler, his body strived forward. His legs moved on their own and he couldn't stop himself from getting closer and closer to the nightmare he called a sibling. His eyes were locked on to that dreadful grin. That grin that now made up half of the thing's face. He could clearly see its teeth all lined up perfectly in a row. Straight and structured like pearly white columns in a building. He could count them one by one. Every detail and small flaw found in the shut jaws of this slender creature were clear as day. Slowly as he was getting closer, the smile got wider and wider until all he saw was a floating grin hovering inches from his face. It's hot breathe blowing smoke inside his sockets like an angry chimney. Its warm saliva dripping on his forehead, his cheek, in his mouth. Its tongue pressing against him, forcing its way inside, invading every corner of his mouth, slowly secreting poison down his throat. 

 

**(**)**

Before Sans knew it, he was once again on his back. The snow was once again tickling his femurs. His brother was still kissing him, and sliding his hands through his pants. Sans still couldn't comprehend what was going on. He didn't know if any of this was real. He couldn't tell if any of this was really happening until Papyrus pulled his tongue away and Sans heard the clink of his belt. Almost instantly he snapped out of it. 

 

“Paps...Paps wait-” Sans didn't get a chance to properly interven before his head was shoved back down towards the ground. A large hand was obscuring most of his view. Sans tried not to panic. He tried so hard not to panic, but the sharp fabric of his hoodie was now pushing against his shoulder blade and he couldn't tell why. He didn’t know his brother had a hard grip on his hoodie’s collar until it was violently ripped clean off of him. The loud sound of the rip ringed in his skull.  He's never seen anyone tear thick fabric with such ease like one would simply tear paper. 

 

Was it still too late to get the hell out of there?

 

Sans felt something moist and stiff press against his pelvis. The sobbing couldn't be contained much longer. Whatever slither of pride Sans possibly had left, was thrown out the window. He was really about to get raped. Raped by his brother.

 

_ His own brother. _

 

“I won't...you can't. P-please no. Don't do this,” Sans plead with him, desperately hoping he could get through to him. Maybe if he begged hard enough he could convince him to stop.

 

Papyrus licked the side of his skull, leaving a trail of sticky saliva. The moisture against his bone felt awful. It surprisingly burned like he was scrubbed with wet sandpaper.  Sans wanted to touch the infected spot, he wanted to make sure the pain he was feeling wasn't just all in his head. He needed to make sure there wasn't suddenly a hole burned through his skull. Before he could even lift his hand, the creature on top of him creeped his claws through his rib cage, counting each rib as he passed them by. It then got down again as it locked its eyes with his own. It gently whispered in his ear. “c'mon, big brother. Make something for me to play with,”  

 

The pressure being  pressed against him grew more intense. Sans felt sick.

 

“I-i can't...Paps I don't want to do this-” Another attempt at stopping the inevitable. Maybe he should just give up. 

 

His pelvis was starting to hurt. The heavy force was rapidly growing more severe as Sans let out a loud yelp. He tried to free himself from his brother grips. How did he even get in this position? There were so many opportunities for escape. He was such an useless idiot for not taking any of them. Sans felt crushed. He was between a rock and a hard place, and this rock was slowly edging nearer. 

 

Papyrus grabbed his wrist and slowly began to bend it in a unnatural direction. It was giving way to the sudden force being applied as the bone quickly became compromised. 

 

“Stop! Please Stop!” Sans was screaming at the top of his lungs. His wrist was in tremendous pain as it snapped, and cracks opened upon the surface. Sans tried but he just couldn't pull his arm away. He tugged and tugged and screamed and tried to use all his strength, but he couldn't do it. He just couldn't pull his hand away and it was going to break. He was going to lose a limb,  and Papyrus didn't seem to mind. He didn't even flinch or seem bothered by Sans’ struggling. He was stiff. He was cold. And he was still smiling. 

 

When the pop finally came, Sans stopped. He didn't feel it. In fact all the pain in his arm was suddenly alleviated. He felt so much lighter at first until the blood started pouring out. It painted the white snow a glistening scarlet. If Sans didn't know better he would've thought the sight was beautiful. A bloody red scream mixing with the pure ice, shimmering with the reflected light on the snow. Magic started flowing afterwards. Sans wondered where the fluorescent blue was coming from. He couldn't tell if it was his own or someone else's. The stump that now replaced his left hand was only stained with the deep red. 

 

_ Where could all this blue stuff be coming from? _

 

It didn't dawn on Sans that he was throwing up his own magic until the putrid smell hit his nostrils, and he noticed his jaw was hanging open, covered in filth. 

 

“I..can't do... it” Sans continued to repeat over and over to himself. He knew Papyrus wasn't listening. He knew he was talking to a blank wall. He knew it didn't matter what he said. It was still going to happen.

 

“You can, Sans. Just think really hard on it. Its very easy,” Papyrus cooed as he stroked his erection. 

 

Sans honestly couldn't do it. His magic was all over the place along with his mind. The forest was spinning like a top and it only got faster the more he tried to focus. He was in so much pain it was unbelievable. Maybe it would've been better if  he was strangled to death. 

 

“That's a good boy. Just like that,”

 

He had no control of his body anymore. His magic pooled around the rubbing from the bony fingers of brother. It shaped something abnormal and vile at his pelvis. The flesh formed warm lips that slowly pulled apart as Papyrus examined it. It gushed and squirmed under the pressure of the cold phalanx. Already dripping wet. Already willing to be violated.

 

Sans cringed when he realized what he's done. The organ made him uneasy. This thing he was forced to create between his legs felt so unnatural. He hated what he was forced to do, what he was forced to become, and what he was going to be forced to feel. 

 

Papyrus didn't wait a second longer to shove his way in. Sans didn't bother putting up a fight. 

 

His sight was completely obscured with tears. Everything became a blurry silhouette. The world collided in on itself as colors were mixed into one solid white. He couldn't see much besides that. 

 

It was better that way. 

 

Papyrus grunted like a horny dog. Violently thrusting against Sans’ walls, and digging his nails in his femurs with each repeated motion. Edging deeper and deeper inside him. Stabbing his soul. Crushing his spirit. Breaking every ounce of his dignity. 

 

This needed to end soon. It needed to end before Sans officially loses his mind. This didn't feel good, no, his hip were starting to ache. His brother's size was starting to stretch him further then he cared to go. He wanted to die. He wanted to die so badly. He preyed this would kill him, that this beast would rupture something important inside him. He wanted it to ruin him to no repair. He wanted it to just kill him already. Sans would never be able to face this, he would never look at himself the same again. 

 

“Oh fuck, you're so tight,” 

 

**(**)**

 

It was the last thing he heard before the world quickly began to fade at the seams. Everything was dematerializing right in front of his eyes. Going completely black like someone shut off the sun. It got cold again. Really cold. Colder than Sans could ever remember Snowdin feeling. 

 

Sans was scared, it seem to be the only thing he felt now a days, but he knew this feeling. This feeling was familiar. He was blacking out. It usually only happened when he's been drinking too heavily, never from a situation similar to this. But then again, this was the first time he was consciously experiencing his brother's abuse. 

 

His body was left defenseless now, and Sans couldn't care less. It wouldn't be the first time after all. He's probably been through this for weeks or months. It would explain why he always felt so disoriented, why he felt such a strong urge to drink, why he was scared to be alone with Papyrus.

 

He now had to think about how he was ever going to deal with himself once he woke up.

 

_ If he woke up _ .

 

______

 

**_(And so that is it. I know I did once plan on adding more to this chapter. Like I think I wanted a whole story line centered around Papyrus becoming King or something like that lol, and I know I also wanted to edit in more stuff with Undyne since we pretty much forget about her during the whole assault XD._ **

 

**_I did have fun reading over my work since I didn't even remember writing any of this. I'm so curious about my thought process during the time lol. But who knows how this would've turned out if I stuck with it._ **

 

**_I hope you enjoyed this little snippet of what could've been ‘Lugubriosity’.)_ **


End file.
